Bad Day
by peppymint
Summary: Remy says something he wouldn't have, given normal circumstances. But everyone has bad days. Also features Wolverine and Mr. Sinister.


_I don't own x-men_

_Recently there has been an influx of Sinister/Gambit stories_

_Not that I mind. The interaction between the two of them is great. _

_But, I am starting to feel a bit sorry for Remy. _

_So I have decided to write a more light-hearted fic, just for him. _

_And you guys too of course._

**Bad Day**

A low growl rumbled from deep within Wolverine's chest as he caught an all too familiar scent. It was Sinister. He didn't know what that mad man was doing on the school grounds, but whatever it was, it couldn't be good. Stealthily, the feral mutant set about tracking the scent.

It didn't take Logan long to locate his target. Sinister was standing in the garden gazebo, bold as brass, and he wasn't alone. The only thing that kept Wolverine's rage in check was that the Cajun looked about as happy to be there as he was to see him with the other. Good thing too, he would have hated to have to kill Remy for being a traitor.

The air nearly crackled from the intensity of the staring contest going on between the two red-eyed individuals. "I will only wait so long my boy," Sinister warned. "It would be in your best interests if you left this place, now." Really, Remy was lucky he was so fond of him. Otherwise he would have forced the issue a long time ago.

Casually the Cajun lit one of his cigarettes, taking a long drag. He was the perfect picture of nonchalance, outwardly at least. "Do you really think Remy give a damn 'bout your advice?" he inquired coolly.

Snick! The pair both turned at the distinctive sound of Logan's claws popping out. "Why don't you take your own advice bub," the feral mutant advised. "And leave." He wasn't quite sure what was going on, but he did know whose side he was on.

A cold smile spread over the pale figure's face. "Wolverine," Essex greeted. "Didn't anyone ever tell you it is rude to interrupt a private conversation?"

While the scientist and Logan traded barbs, Gambit tried to will away his headache. He really didn't feel so good. "S' all right Logan. _Monsieur_ Sinister was just leaving."

"Oh," the scientist inquired. "I don't remember saying that."

Gambit couldn't help himself, he snapped. Later he would blame it on too many sleepless nights. "And wot would you say Remy haven't heard before, _eh_," he spat, his accent thickening. "You say I belong to you. I say I don't. You tell me to stop lying to myself."

His red on black eyes flashed, literally glowing with the force of his anger. Why couldn't Sinister just leave him alone? "Den we start playing mind games with Remy's head, _non?_ That you always be there for me, dat you understand me where de X-men don't." In all honesty that was true, not that the younger man would ever admit it aloud. He would cut out his own tongue first.

"And just for variety you go and stick in some psychobabble bout my tendency to speak in the third person, disassociation or some such," his trench coat fluttered in an unseen breeze. "We nothing alike Sinister, and Remy neva join you. So why don't you just piss off!" For a moment Gambit just stood there, his harsh pants clearly audible in sudden silence.

Then Sinister frowned, sticking one cool hand on the younger man's forehead. "Remy?" he asked. "Are you ill?" That outburst had been uncharacteristic, to say the least. The scientist found himself concerned at the amount of heat radiating off the other's body.

The thief jerked back. "I ain't," he denied. It was just a stupid cold. He didn't need any help. Unfortunately for him he had backed right into Logan who also took the opportunity to check his teammate's temperature.

"Shit kid," Wolverine muttered, keeping one wary eye on their uninvited guest. "How long have you been like this?"

Remy squirmed, feeling a bit like a young child. "Couple weeks," he admitted softly.

"A couple weeks!" Logan roared. "You should be in the med lab!"

"_Non!" _Gambit objected immediately. "I be fine. It will go away on its own."

It was at this moment that Sinister re-entered the conversation. "Look at it this way Remy," the doctor interjected. "Dr. McCoy's lab, or mine." He couldn't believe the other had taken such risks with his health. Actually he could, but this was hardly the time to express his displeasure.

Gambit smiled weakly, backing further away from the man who had created him. "On second thought, Remy talk to Beast."

_Not my best work. But I think it is fine considering I just jotted it down on a whim._

_Hope you liked it, and if you want to see a more serious Gambit/Sinister fic, _

_go vote for your favorite plunnie on my profile._


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